Since a little girl I would always hear about my mom’s encounters with the “other side”.
Yes – I have my own “John Edward”, if you would like to call her that.
One of our living ghost stories is Bremen.
Bremen was a white Mercedes Benz from the late 1970’s, and Bremen came with a story. You could even say that Bremen’s previous owner lived through her. This is the creepiest, car I have ever had the misfortune of being a passenger in.
To understand the story behind Bremen you have to know that her previous owner committed suicide by gassing himself while sitting in the back seat between 10pm and 2am on a Saturday night.
We are a family who love watching movies and we loved going to the drive-in. The problem was if we decided to take Bremen along on a Saturday night, we would have to leave before the second show. If we stayed Bremen would not start– no matter what you tried. Bremen imitated a fossil between 10 and 2pm .This was one of the most creepy times to be around Bremen as you could see hand impressions digging into the back seat. I was only seven or eight at the time and I was pretty sure I was witnessing a true life horror story.
At 11pm Bremen would once again start with ease, and you could be on your merry way again.
Another problem with Bremen is that she didn’t like women very much. My mom and I took Bremen along when we went grocery shopping one Saturday morning. My mom had filled two trolleys to the brim, and Bremen refused to open her doors, or boot. We stood in the blazing heat for almost an hour trying to open the car. My mom tried the driver’s door, then the passenger door, then the boot, then she handed the keys over to me and I would try, It was like we were kids completing shampoo bottle instructions, *wash, lather, rinse, repeat, wash, lather, rinse, repeat*. No matter what we tried we just couldn’t get those doors to open.
My mom was furious by then, and she shouted at Bremen “Damn it if you don’t open your doors now – I’m going to make razor blades out of you!”
The doors opened almost immediately, but then Bremen decided it would be fun to push an already angry woman even further. Bremen decided not to start. It was nothing like the night time stints; Bremen was eh-heh-eh-heh-eh-hehing. My mom shouted at the car again and low and behold the car started.
Off we went to fetch my step father at work, with Bremen coughing and spluttering all the way. My mom told my step father in no uncertain terms – that she would not be driving home due to our mornings adventures with Bremen.
“Ahh my poor baby, is daddy’s girl sick?” My step dad said to Bremen.
He put the key in the ignition and started her up. Bremen was once again fine, no coughing, no spluttering, no refusal to unlock doors.
He stood outside the car allowing Bremen idyll for a couple of minutes.
“See” He said, “There’s nothing wrong with her. What’s daddy’s girls’ name?”
Bremen answered without hesitation – “B-r-e-e-e-e-m-e-e-e-n”.
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